


Witch Hunt

by SwampWitch333



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Military, Espionage, F/F, Lesbian Character, Military
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 15:52:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17348099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwampWitch333/pseuds/SwampWitch333
Summary: Joan's POVThen Vera's POVAlternate universe in time; place. Based on facts, unfortunately.Brief mentions of Doyle, Jackson, Fletcher.EOS- End of Service (when people leave the service having completed the amount they've signed on for)Brokedick- a soldier who's lazy or fakes having medical reasons that they cannot function normally in the ranks so they clean latrines or dump waste baskets





	Witch Hunt

Staff Sergeant Joan Ferguson sat at a obsessively tidy desk, far removed from photos of loved ones, or anything remotely personal. Her primary focus was her job. That was it.

In wait, she sighed, finally hearing the knock at the door.

"Lance Corporal Vera Bennett, reporting as asked, Staff Sergeant, Ma'am!"

I studied the stock still formation of the enlisted woman in my door. Watching her, as if observing a new species.

"At ease, Bennett. Close the door behind you.", i choffed, looking back down at the papers accommodating Bennett's history and lately, accusations.

Watching, while simultaneously reviewing the papers i had read and reread over again and again, my eyes spied a apprehensive Lance Corporal Bennett close the door quietly, remaining at attention. Her eyes dared not look at mine, instead they stared through, straight ahead, submission of an underling; as if one could bore a hole in the wall.

Looking up, a millisecond, my trained eyes took it all in. Her accusations on file are harsh, i realize the company risks losing one of their best and all for what? An accusation? Something so trite in the modern civilian world, is suspended in time for those who chose to serve in the military, and in Bennett's case, serve it well. No doubt she's been passed over from promotions, as the male species has never been comfortable accepting the more deadly amongst their ranks. 

"At ease, Bennett!", i command again, my eyes and face unreadable, lest i immerse myself in others' problematic poker games.

Lance Corporal Bennett attempts to assume the ordered position, however it's glaringly obvious she will not remain at ease, given good reason. Not my reasoning, that of others' higher up on the kevlar and brass celing this food chain consists of.

"These are heavy accusations.", i assert, noting Bennett does not seem to flinch or show any other reactions, whatsoever.

"Why did you request to meet with me?", more of a demand than a question escapes my lips.

"You know better than to bring attention to yourself, and thus, other's.", the words come out of my mouth by instinct. 

Bennett remains silent, a revealing twitch of her mouth, her telltale heart, pinned to the sleeve of her woodland marpat battle dress uniform.

My stare penetrates this woman, perhaps she is amongst many who EOS out at the known slang termed 'terminal lance' rank. Yet there is an aura about her which differentiates her from the others.

Watching, i observe her fight to keep composure. With a hasty glance, i ensure the door is closed fully. Realising the young woman standing so erect before me, is on such a thin frayed string, i offer up,

"Deny these accusations. All of them. Is that understood!", possibly i sound more gruff than i have to, however in this world it's a commonplace need.

Grayish blue eyes flutter slightly downwards towards my own, fear evident.

"Bennett, we've lost too many outstanding members of the Corps; hell all branches, due to this- this obscene bullshit!", fleeing words leave my mouth, as if on their own, I've lost control, or rather i didn't seem to want to find it necessary at the moment. Later I'll over analyze in my mind. Now is the time for meaning to sink through, for the sake of the Lance Corporal before me.

Her lips move, yet words do not come out. Staring at her i await.

"Sergeant!", enthusiasm laced with doubts, "Ma'am, Yes, Ma'am!", the latter more hearty and ingrained.

"Lance Corporal Bennett", satisfied i now have her full attention, my consciousness is all too aware of the history of such accusations having ended careers of some of the best, most hard working, adept Marines and military we've had in our ranks.

Pausing, i reflect on this, the scales tipped, the unfairness, the sacrifices, just to excel in our world and at least reach a paygrade before one, if so chooses to retire, or worse, be forced one's hand and kicked out.

"Bennett, you need to listen to me.", i am firm and make sure her gun metal eyes meet mine. She needs to take heed to what i am about to say. For her own sake, and that of her unit's, what a loss it would be to lose such a member who performs superbly at one's duties. For i also know, careers and livelihoods hang in such a precarious balance. As if balance is a term that could even be applied here. My face contorts, a reflection of my inner thoughts. Most are not lucky to get second chances.

"You came to me before you went to our commanding officer.", it's a question masquerading as a statement.

"I-I'm sorry-", Bennett finally stammers out.

"No apologies."

"Yes Ma'am!"

Enthusiasm unshakable, never goes unnoticed from me.

"You need to be careful. That includes your personal finances, Bennett, do i really need to remind you of this?", aware that it is the pep talk she needs, for she's memorized all the rules long ago to this hideous game.

Finally she speaks stating the obvious, "Someone has accused me of homosexual activities."

She stares into the wall again, eyes unpassable, the only recesses of her thoughts accessed by transference, a sixth sense, another have already seen to many go through what she is up against.

"Look at me.", softening my voice, i attempt to keep her grounded, away from the demons of fear of what could be, if she is found out.

Her light sea colored eyes water up, causing me to look back down at her files, sparing her embarassment. She has worked hard and fought for where she is today, risking her own life and future for the greater good. It would be a waste to see her fall from grace now.

"Deny everything to NCIS.", my words are harsh, my eyes understanding, a warm hot cocoa, so she understands.

"You are friends with Corporal Stewart."

She nods, pooling eyes wary, at me.

"Then your aware of that he is somewhat a nelly. It would serve you both well to go on a date.", i despise myself for suggesting this, however it's not unheard of for a gay and lesbian to date, or marry even, in order to save their military career.

Examining her records once more, i look up, realizing a tear has overflowed down her right cheek.

"Take a seat."

As an order, my eyes harsh, she obeys. I push a tissue box across my desk towards her, lifting my eyebrows.

Unable to look at me, she grasps for a kleenex, while i give her space, returning my eyes to the files in front of me. The young woman before me has remained steadfast in the face of combat, the irony is not lost on me on how the present accusations bring her to silent tears. It saddens me how the biggest career killer of so many of the most competent women and men of the arm forces has been accusations of homosexuality.

"Have you been having any problems with anyone lately?, feeling my face tense up, lips smashed into a thin line, i know the answer.

"Fletcher keeps making unwanted advances at me!", Bennett exclaims, her pleading eyes begging for a savior.

Closing the file loudly, i lean back against my desk chair and do not hide the anger in my eyes.

"That brokedick! It figures! He never was useful at anything other than cleaning latrines.", not bothering to hide my disgust.

"He's tried to force himself on me, and i gave him the knife hand. Then i ran, yet I'm afraid he'll continue to persue this.", Vera sputters out, her rising ire evident.

Dropping formalities, "Vera, why didn't you tell me?!" My eyes implore with emotion, yet i already know the answer.

Before she can speak, "You have my full support on this. You need to go to our Commanding Officer. Do noT tell him you've spoken to me or anyone, are we clear?"

"Yes Sergeant."

Her eyes meet mine, i sense a strength that was not there when she first entered my office. 

Private Fletcher was never able to rank up, his blatant personal insecurities getting in the way, likely the only way he made it through boot camp was by his brute strength alone. Yet we all know intelligence with strength combined makes for a better warrior.

"I will talk to Corporal Stewart.", my eyes glean collusively, as we both understand such a lazy mess of that is Fletcher puts the entire unit at risk.

Conspiratorially i add, "Wouldn't surprise me that Stewart has been having issues, along with Doyle as well, in regards to harassment by Fletcher."

Recognition lights up bulbs in dull blue eyes.

\-----

 

I forget where i am for a moment, my eyes searching for bearings in the cold, dark room.

Two men, dressed more as corporate civilians, rather than the NCIS investigators they are, seem to crowd in on me, one across the small table; the other too my side.

All too familiar with this game of good cop, bad cop, i feel my eyes focus, i recall the words silently in my head, of Staff Sgt. Ferguson.

Investigator one accuses me of homosexual acts. They are nothing more than clones; mere numbers, mirrors of themselves.

"No.", i firmly state in a voice that seems foreign to even myself. "I've been dating Corporal Jake Stewart, these accusations are preposterouS!" The last word thunders down as if I've sent a gavel crashing, casting judgement on them, instead of the other way around.

Investigator one glances at investigator two quickly, thrown off, as it may seem out of character of me for those that judge by appearance.

Having found new strength, i feed them the last morsel they will get from me. I do not hesitate.

Investigator two demands to know all the men I've dated, who my boyfriends have been, are and can they testify that I've dated them.

"I've been dating Corporal Jake Stewart!," i hiss.

"Quite frankly, Private Fletcher has started this rumor since he tried to accost me and i turned down his advances. I'm noT the only one having to deal with the problem that is Fletcher!"

Letting my final words resonate, i already know that Stewart and Doyle will back them up. Not to mention our company Commander, Derek Channing.

Prior to this interrogation, after having met up with both my gay boyfriend now, Jake Stewart, along with Franky Doyle, we've formed an alliance. 

The investigators sit back, backing off, looking somewhat confused. Investigator two asks for the millionth time, "So your not a homosexual?" He stops them adds, can you name some homosexuals for us?

"NO! And NO!", I sigh and roll my eyes, "Can i go now?!", i demand, in disbelief they would have the nerve to even question me about such absurdity.

"Yes.", realizing there's no case, their fruitless which hunt for homosexuals in the military has reached a dead end with me, i get up and walk out. Out the door of the dark room, down hallways, until i am outside, the heat of the sun unthawing me.

Corporal Jake Stewart nods to me, i offer my arm linking it through his, as i lead us away from that horrific building and room, that of which sit those cursed with the job of weeding out the military's homosexuals; some of which may be Generals, most all of which due their duties to their upmost abilities, have risked both life and limb for their country, and have kept their brothers and sister's in arms safe.  
Jake plants a kiss on my cheek, we both smile, yet our smiles do not extend beyond our eyes. We do what it takes to keep our careers intact, to get an honorable discharge, to keep our pride to be able to serve our country with upmost integrity.

Glancing at Corporal Stewart, i see him fight to blink back tears. It was almost two years ago today, his boyfriend, the love of his life, had committed suicide. Squeezing his arm tightly, i reassure him. Jake's boyfriend, Staff Sergeant Will Jackson, almost had 12 years in, when someone (likely a young enlistee fresh out of boot, and job training, had lagged about Will being gay, in order to save his own unknown boot soul from questioning. Investigators' will try and break you; claim your close friends have lagged, claim they have evidence, when they don't. For those that break, they demand other's to be named. Will had been so close to the end of a 12 year service and receiving benefits, he had led valiantly during the wars in the lands of Sand. Jackson's mistake was having a party off base, that of which younger enlisted members attended, one of which who was easily broken by investigators from NCIS and lagged. 

Corporal Stewart hides the sadness the best he can, yet i can feel it radiate off him. He's lost the love of his life, all he has left is the Marine Corps. I am greatful for Staff Sergeant Ferguson, for she seems to be the glue holding all of these exceptional Marines together, protecting one another. Doyle will no longer have to worry about her blooming relationship with the Marine Corps psychologist, at least for now, she can continue to focus on repairing aircraft, looking forward to a promotion. For now, we are safe.

Safe until the next 'witch hunt', that of which NCIS decides to investigate another for being 'homosexual'. Sometimes it's similar to my case, a male can't take no for an answer, so they accuse a female Marine of being a lesbian (even if she's straight), maybe they accuse another as they don't want to accept a woman in charge, or they vie for her position and job. Whether or not it's true of one's sexuality, is no one's business. We get our jobs done, and we do it well, better than most of these brokedick, wannabe alpha heterosexual males. 

Another day of peace, one's sexuality unquestioned turns into another week, month, year. I lead a double life along with Jake, pretending we are a couple. Staff Sgt. Joan Ferguson has looked out for us all, including new members that have joined our unit. We've looked out for eachother, gay and straight alike. Those who are the sexist small minds of that which was Fletcher, are quickly warned. Failure to comply, we get them out.

These 'witch hunts' and the enacting of 'Don't ask, don't tell', have made things worse in the sense, if one is accused, then one must prove they are NOT homosexual, or risk getting discharged without benefits, or worst case sent to a military prison.

\-----

Looking over my office, my sight hones in, assuring all is in it's rightful organized place, in an environment that can only stay clean from time to time.

This is the path I've chose, and I've no regrets. Well, maybe one. I do wish i could have somehow reached out to Will Jackson before he took his own life. Deep down i know it's ridiculous policy and not my fault. Despite this he was one of my Marines, and it haunts me. Since then I've vowed to do all i can for every hard working Marine, male or female; gay or straight, transgender or inbetween in my unit. I've devised plans to keep them save from the horrific witch hunts led by NCIS, and to keep them safe from the likes of males like Fletcher.  
Many a time homosexuals seem to work harder to prove they can get their jobs done, even well and beyond that of their straight counterparts. This is not to say straight warriors do not. It's that if they're straight, they do not have to prove they are not gay. If only their wives knew about the cheating that goes on. I shudder at the thought of such homicidal outcomes of pissed off wives' realizing their counterparts hit on and copulate with straight female Marines and other warriors. Helping eachother protect other non-heterosexuals from these witch hunts can be easier said than done. This story is just a fairy tale, yet it doesn't stop me from trying. I've been promoted to Company Commander. 

One day we will not have to hide our sexuality, in fear of being hunted down as we are a security risk that could be "blackmailed" due to our homosexuality. How absurd! My lip curls and twitches at the notion, i feel my eyes darken and take a deep breathe.

Walking down the halls, i exit the building, preparing to go to my home off base for what remains of the night.

My thoughts wander to Will, if only he had stuck it out, then again his demons weren't solely related to that of impending interrogations, however that certainly pushed him and many other top notch warriors over the line. Grimacing, my thoughts wander to having failed Jackson somehow. I think of Jake Stewart, Franky Doyle, many others, who do their jobs so well. Work comes first to all of us.

Arriving at my home, i open the door. My thoughts flash to Vera. She's made it through, with letters of recommendation from myself and other's up the food chain, she's made it to Corporal, no longer a 'Terminal Lance'. Assuming that she would EOS out, she had proved me wrong. Smiling to myself, I'm pleased with being able to create a family and a safety net to try my damnest to keep my Marines from being unfairly tossed to the curb by a sexist, racist, homophobic system.  
Quietly i smirk, as i know how many Generals, Rear Admirals and other high ranking military chose to put their job first, their homosexuality closeted, yet maintaining a beautiful career. It takes a heavy toll on one's soul, yet they are lifer's that have chosen then military as their career.

As i enter my house, i grin at the smell of food wafting from the kitchen. Vera smiles back at me. Jake comes in from the patio smiling, his new boyfriend carrying a tray of deliciously grilled kabobs. Jake plucks a piece of grilled mushroom off a stick and feeds it to his boyfriend, a well muscled man who smiles and savors the food.  
Vera is about to re-enlist for another 4 years, so technically I'm not breaking my own rules. Hopefully during that time, she'll rise up beyond enlisted status. She has what it takes. As long as i am wearing this uniform, i have sworn to uphold honor, integrity and commitment to my Marines and the Corps. This is this first time in years, I've noticed progress. Maybe it's that these younger generations are more openminded, for those that are not, and i catch wind, there will be punishment. My goal is to strive for equality, and respect regardless of race, gender, sexuality. So far we've quite the cohesive unit with high morale.

Smiling, i watch Vera glance at me. She does not ask why I'm smiling. She already knows.


End file.
